What's best for you
by ninjawriter2
Summary: Leaving his baby brother on the front steps of an orphanage was one of the hardest thing Sans had ever done, and he felt awful for it. But it was what was best for him...right? (Written for my friends AU, abandontale. They're deviantart is 'PerfectPines', and fanfiction as King667. They're the reason this story exists, give them some love. T for sad themes and possible blood.)
**Friend: You. Are. Insane.**

 **Me: What? I can handle it!  
**

 **Friend: Taking on ANOTHER story!? You're going to die!**

 **Me: Hush! This does not concern you!**

 **Friend: Fine, Ms. Death wish. Your funeral.**

It was cold that night. A remarkable feat, considering their proximity to Hotland. Slightly blue light shone over everything, a subtle reminder of the Undergrounds situation that everyone chose to ignore. It showed particularly bright over the Home orphanage. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but the shadowy figure hiding in the trees across the road took it as a sign. The figure flitted across the road, their blue jacket flapping with the speed they were running. If one looked closely, they could have seen a small bundle of red in the monsters arms.

The mysterious figure stopped in front of the building, their breath fogging slightly as they panted. The hood slipped off, revealing the boney white surface of a skull. A skeleton. Sans the skeleton, to be exact.

The building was small, smaller than Sans had thought. It also looked dirty and old, making him feel sick just looking at it. It probably had rats or something. His weak arms started to shake slightly, partially from Papyrus's weight, but mostly from the fear that was now creeping in on him. Was he really doing the right thing? Living on the streets was hard, but it was better than living with their father. Sans's eyes narrowed. Not their father- just Gaster now. He'd left them to fend for themselves. It was _his_ fault Sans was now considering leaving his brother. His fault they were both starving to death...

Papyrus started coughing. It was a ragged, whooping cough, so violent that Sans could hear his younger brothers ribs rattling. He watched helplessly, moving the much smaller skeleton to try and make the coughing easier on him. It worked, but the coughing still continued for almost a minute before subsiding. And by the time it was over, Sans was ready to cry. But he didn't. Crying had never helped him in the past. He knew what had to be done. For both their sakes.

He started forward toward the door of the orphanage, stumbling slightly as his unsteady legs encountered loose rocks. The steps were equally hard, each one feeling like a shear cliff face. Papyrus felt heavy in his arms, but he held his brother tight. They were both so weak. Dropping Papyrus could easily kill him in the state he was in. Sans set his brother down as gently as he could, trying not to look at his sleeping face. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a pre prepared envelope. He was about to slip it into Papyrus's scarf when the baby began to stir.

Sans stared and hoped that he wouldn't wake up, but of course, he did. His big eyes stared up at Sans, and for a moment, there was silence. Then Papyrus let out a few bubbly noises and reached for Sans's hand, grasping it. Sans forced a smile, slipping the envelope into the folds of Paps bright red blanket scarf. "H-hey Pap." Papyrus squealed happily and reached up with his other hand and weakly batted Sans face. Suddenly, crying didn't seem like such a bad idea. Tears began to roll freely from his sockets, and Sans made no attempt to wipe them away. What was the point? What was the point of anything?

Papyrus knew something was wrong, even before Sans started crying. He desperately patted Sans face, looking like he was about to cry himself. Sans quickly wiped his tears off, ignoring the fact that more welled up almost immediately. "Y-you're not m-makin this easy, P-pap." His prepubescent voice cracked, and he almost wanted to laugh. "W-why'd you have to wake up?"

Pap looked at him, making a confused noise. He attempted to touch Sans face again, but Sans made sure he was out of reach. His tears were flowing again, splashing onto the stone porch in streams. He'd been saving up for awhile, it seemed. "D-don't worry. Y-you'll b-be safe here, I promise. You'll get a b-better l-life." Papyrus looked at him in confusion, and Sans couldn't help a strangled chuckle. "You s-still don't g-get it. I wish I c-could explain-" He could feel himself breaking down, and he started to stand. "I-I'm sorry P-pap, I have to g-go."

Papyrus, seeing his brother standing, reached out with his tiny hands and grasped his brothers oversized coat sleeve. He started making distressed noises. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew Sans was leaving him, and that was bad!

Sans tears streamed out like twin waterfalls, leaving glittering trails as they reflected the light of the 'stars'. "C-come on pap, d-don't do this..." He tried to tug his sleeve away, his voice seeming almost desperate. "Th-this is b-best for both of us, Pap, please l-let me g-go." As he pulled, Papyrus started to cry, his wailing cries echoing through the empty neighborhood. To Sans horror, a light in one of the upper bedrooms flicked on, and footsteps began to thump down stairs. He made a split second decision. His voice cracked as he cried one more time, "I'm sorry Papyrus!" Then he slipped out of his jacket, leaving it behind as he ran for the trees.

* * *

Mrs. Harr, the resident caretaker of Home orphanage, was awoken by the sound of a child crying. She sat up in her bed, confused. Her long blue bunny ears twitched, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. Had one of the children woken up? No, this sounded much younger than any she had with her now. She stood and flicked on her light, momentarily blinded as she searched for her slippers. She eventually found them and slipped them on, putting on a bathrobe as she walked down the stairs. None of the children seemed to have woken up, which she was grateful for. It had taken forever to get them to bed.

The crying was louder now, and she hurried toward the door. She cautiously peeked through the peephole, stories of criminals luring woman out of their houses with recordings of crying babies at the forefront of her mind. Through it, she saw the edge of a red bundle, and saw a tiny hand gripping a discarded jacket. Her eyes widened. This was the real deal.

She swung the door open, clambering put onto the concrete porch. She crouched down and looked at the crying baby, hesitating only a half second before scooping it up. She glanced around for a moment, trying to see who had left the baby. When she saw no one, she hurriedly went back inside. As an after thought, she retrieved the jacket and brought it in with them, using one of her hind legs to push the door shut behind them.

As soon as she was inside, she threw the jacket onto a nearby chair and began to gently rock the baby. It did next to nothing as the baby continued to squall. She quickly went to the kitchen, grateful she always kept formula in the pantry for emergencies. She made it as quickly as she could, then slipped the bottle into the babies mouth. They continued crying for a moment, then seemed to realize the bottle being offered to them. The baby latched on hesitantly, then began to drink eagerly.

Mrs. Harr sighed in relief. "I suppose you were just hungry. Or perhaps cold?" She looked at the babies serene face, noting with some shock at how fast they were drinking. "Goodness, how hungry were you?" She became acutely aware of how light the baby was. "You must be starving!"

The baby showed no sign of responding, completely focused on the bottle. Mrs. Harr couldn't help but smile. They were a rather cute child, although dreadfully thin. For the first time, she began to take note of the child's appearance. They were a skeleton, wrapped in what looked like a giant red scarf. As she looked closer, she saw the corner of an envelope sticking out. She plucked it out, reading the message scrawled in messy block letters on it. _To the people who take care of him._ Mrs. Harr considered a moment, then tore it open with her front teeth, making a mental note not to do that in front of the children. She expertly slipped the folded paper out of the envelope, squinting at the paper as she read. It was hard without her reading glasses, but she managed.

 _Dear Person,_

 _I know you probably have lots of problems already, but I hope you won't mind my little bro. I can't take care of him. I thought I could, but I guess I was wrong. I don't know if I'll ever see him again, so please take good care of them. He's cute and funny, and he likes playing outside. I don't know how much he's supposed to eat, since I never found very much. But I'm sure he won't bother you very much. Tell him I'm sorry. He's the best little brother I could have ever had. It's just better this way._

 _Sincerely, the older brother_

 _P.S. There's another note in here, it's for him when he's old enough. NO PEEKING_

By the time she finished reading, there were tears in her eyes. The note had obviously been written by a child, and she didn't want to think about the circumstance they must have been in. Surely they weren't still out there? Oh dear- she had to search for them, she had to-

A little cry reminded her of her current responsibilities. She looked at the baby, smiling as she saw the concern in his big infant eyes. She wiped her tears away. Tomorrow she'd search for the other brother. Right now, this little one needed her. She frowned, realizing that the note had never mentioned a name. She shrugged. That was a matter for another time.

She never did find the older brother, although she tried very hard. She also couldn't seem to find a fitting name for her newest charge. She'd have to work on that.

* * *

Sans wasn't sure how long he'd been walking. He only knew he had fallen several times, and each time made it harder to get up. His bones scraped dully, the magic that usually acted as cartilage nonexistent in his weakness. He coughed slightly, his vision blurring with fever. He knew he was dying, knew he couldn't keep walking forever. It made him sad. He'd hope to do something more with his life, but that seemed out of reach now.

At least Pap would be safe. He thought back to watching the woman carry Pap inside, and felt a small pang in his heart. He pushed it away. The lady was nice, he could tell. Pap would be find. It was what was best for him.

A sudden voice behind him stopped him in his tracks. "Well well, would you look at that." He turned around, and saw a bright yellow flower in the middle of the path. It was about his height, with slightly spiky leaves acting like arms. One of them tapped maliciously at its chin. "A young monster, all alone."

Sans lifted his arms to a defensive position, his years of training coming back to him. Although he managed to stand firm, his hands were shaking from exhaustion. The flower laughed, his face morphing into an insane smile. "Oh, this is rich!" The demonic looking plant conjured several white ovals in the air, which Sans assumed were magic attacks. "Don't worry, this won't hurt- MUCH." Flowey fired, the pellets speeding toward Sans.

Sans flipped to the side, avoiding the first wave with seeming ease. As he landed, his legs nearly gave out, and he stumbled, only just managing to jump out of the way of another volley. Thinking he was clear, he relaxed, noticing the stray pellet just a little too late. It slammed into his side, sending him flying several feet before he crashed to the ground and rolled to a stop. His entire side felt like it was on fire, and as his eyes focused on his hand, he saw tiny pieces begin to break off. He tried to get up... but his body refused.

"Interesting..." Flowey's voice hissed. "Even at one health, you still cling to life." There was a moment of silence, then the high pitched giggle returned. "Don't worry, it'll all be over soon!"

Sans heard, rather than saw, the magic forming. He knew he would die if he stayed there. He was barely holding together as it was. Instinctively, he began to reach inside him, feeling for his magic. What he was attempting scared him. He'd only done it a few times, mostly by accident. He didn't even know where to-

"DIE!" Flowey snarled, and in that instant, his instincts took over, and his body glitched away. Flowey was left very confused, and soon to be very frustrated.

* * *

Sans felt himself speeding through ethereal space, surrounded by numbers and light. He moved without destination, flakes of bone coming off as he tore through space. He didn't know where he was going, and frankly, he didn't care. His HP was lower than one at this point, so he probably couldn't have done much if he did care. Finally, a single thought entered his mind. _I want to be somewhere safe..._

Immediately, the numbers shifted, and he was spat out of the void into open air.

He fell a few feet before slamming into something metal and sliding off, landing in a pile of freezing snow. He twitched, the only movement he could manage. The cold began to seep into him, and he gratefully accepted it. Anything to numb the pain of feeling his soul dying. He managed to crack one eye, and saw flakes of white gently falling. Was that snow, or his own dust?

He wasn't sure how long it was before he heard footsteps approaching. He tried to open his eyes, but gave up. It didn't seem worth the effort. The footsteps stopped, and the snow around him began to shift. He let out an involuntary groan as someone touched him. Sans wished whoever it was would go away. He was starting to fall into blackness, and it would be so nice to finally let go.

He felt a pair of warm arms slip under him, and he was struck by the thought that maybe this was what dying felt like. Having someone come and carry you away to wherever monsters went when they died. His body was probably crumbling right now. He couldn't feel anything.

He was moving faster now, and Sans might have wondered about it. But he was so far away-

He was on something soft now. How nice. Finally able to sleep-

A pair of warm hands touched his face. He wheezed slightly as a pair of fingers pried his socket open. Everything was blurry...

The hands allowed his eye to shut again, and it slipped shut without him needing to tell his body to do so. He barely registered the clink of glass from close by. He felt himself growing lighter...

A hand, the same hand from before, slipped behind his head and lifted it, making Sans sit up. He felt the warmth of the hand begin to increase, and another hand pressed to his chest. The warmth was ever increasing, and it was starting to get uncomfortable. He groaned, trying t squirm away. Then, just when Sans thought he was about to get burned, the heat changed. It seemed now to spread through his entire body, causing his pain to fade away. He gasped and opened his eyes. All he could see was orange, but beyond that, he thought he could see someone...

The warmth was soothing, and Sans sighed. His eyes slipped shut, and then he was asleep.

 **Me: And the first chapter is done! It was tons of fun to write.**

 **Friend: You cried while writing it.**

 **Me: It was 2:00 am, don't judge me! Anyway guys, thanks for reading! Feel free to follow if you want to stay up to date, and please drop a review on your way out.**

 **Friend: Preferably onto the authors head, so she actually gets some sleep.**

 **Me: Hey!**


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